The Sleep Timer Strikes Again

February 26th, 2012

Once again I forgot to set the sleep timer and was awakened by voices in the distance at 6am. This time it was Alan Jackson singing “Remember When”. When that song was popular, years ago, on the country music charts, it was also popular with my husband and me. Laying there, reluctant to put my foot on the cold hardwood floor, I was brought back to a time when our children were still young and at home and Saturdays and Sundays were for getting everything done before Monday came. We mowed grass, cleaned house, took turns chasing the girls and had wonderful barbecues at the end of very long and busy days. We’d sit on out deck while the girls played with the dog and their food and look at our groomed yard, clean pool, and just smile at each other. Words weren’t necessary – you couldn’t get them in anyway between the girls fighting and the dog trying to escape off the deck. During that era of our lives, the first time we saw Alan Jackson’s video of that song, our girls were older. We told them we wanted that song played at our 50th wedding anniversary because it described us accurately in our past, present, and in the future we were looking forward to.

This morning, when I woke up to the old ballad, I suddenly realized I was in “my future”. I missed those busy days of chasing kids, mowing lawn, and teaching full time. I saw myself with my “big hair”, blonde and held with what was then called, a “banana clip”. Alan Jackson and Reba McEntire rocked my world and kept me sane.

Getting out of bed, turning off the tv, I thought about how in those days, I wanted these days. Now here I am in these days, wanting those days. “Oh, well, such is life,” I said to myself, making my way down the stairs. When my foot left the last stair and I made the familiar turn for the kitchen, the sight of the beach and the cottages out my front window stopped me, as it does every morning for a brief second, when I say “Thanks, Lord” that I can wake up here.

While brewing my tea, it dawned on me that I wasted a lot of time back in those early years wishing these later years would hurry up and get here. I now wish I slowed down a bit more back then (in my mind, that is – anyone with a house and young children knows your physical pace is set for you) and bathed myself in the thoughts of the then present, rather than having spent so much time wishing for this now future.

Lately I’ve been squandering my time in this lovely place wrangling with the same fears and troubles that we all have in this uncertain world. Today, taking a lesson from my past, I need to stop and bathe my thoughts in appreciating and enjoying the here and now so I, along with Alan Jackson, won’t be singing the same song five years from now.

Now. That is the key word. We all know “now” becomes yesterday way too soon, but every “now and then” we need to just stop, acknowledge that truth, and give a little extra appreciation and respect for the moment at hand. Those nice moments back in the eighties on the deck were not without fears and troubles, but those fears and troubles sifted away from the memories and what I remember is the smell of fresh cut grass.

Maybe today I can do that with the here and now. Let the fears and troubles sift away and pay attention to smelling the ocean in front of me. The song lingers as I set out for the beach…”We won’t be sad, we’ll be glad…”. That time is here. I’ll be glad.

And so, as another day goes by, lessons from the sleep timer (or lack of it) once again kick off my day, and…I have written.